Connection to anything real, to the ancient, to the mystical, to the moment, is weak, so there is bound to be existential exhaustion.

I know salvation will be local, grassroots, and it will be magnified as more people wonder whether maybe they can help.

I want to contribute to the aquifer that runs underneath our communities, of people who have made peace with others against all odds, because that groundwater helps restore and sustain life.

when everything keeps expanding, there is still room in all of us for breath, which is what keeps us alive.

We are going to save the world by repeatedly busting the dread that looms over us like a blimp, by pushing back our sleeves and distracting it with the next right step and good works.

If I repented to avoid hell, only my actions change, not my heart or outlook. If I’m repenting by leaning in closer to life, trying not to focus on everyone and everything that annoy me, then my perspective changes and I’m kinder.

I hate to be wrong, and I hate that I am wrong so often in so many ways, that my thinking is often defensive, judgmental, and skittish. (I have a thinking disorder. I once took a 20 Questions quiz about drinking but substituted thinking and I got most of them: Do you prefer to think alone? Do you hide your thinking from loved ones? Has thinking

I saw that I am heading (God willing) to a fat old age where I will have spent only twenty percent of any given day paying attention to life, to being where my feet are. The rest of the time will have been spent in the ticker tape of imaginings, a low-level fear about those I love, and the things I need to buy.

I simply was not a good match for this earth when I was a child. And then when I was a bit older, I grew so fast that I was in pain and unstable. When I woke up in the morning, I felt as though I had to get used to moving in my larger body. I tripped and ran into walls sometimes.